The Churchills’ settled world was rocked by the king’s unexpected death. In the winter of 1684–85 Charles had been troubled with the gout and could not take his usual exercise, but spent a good deal of time in his laboratory, trying to find a process for the fixing of mercury. He ate less than he once had and ‘drank only for his thirst’, but still took a turn to the Duchess of Portsmouth’s apartments after his supper. On the morning of 2 February 1685 he rose after a restless night, and sat down to the barber, ‘it being shaving day’ – even monarchs were shaved only two or three times a week. He had scarcely sat down when he had ‘an apoplectic fit’ and fell into Lord Ailesbury’s arms. Dr Edmund King, on hand to deal with a sore heel, bled him at once. Charles endured the ministrations of his doctors, which almost certainly accelerated his death, for five days.
On 5 February, when it was clear that his brother was dying, James asked him if he wished to be reconciled to the Roman Catholic Church, and Charles eagerly assented. Finding an English-speaking priest was not easy, for all Queen Catherine’s priests were Portuguese. Quite fortuitously, Father John Huddlestone, who had helped Charles escape after the battle of Worcester in 1651, was in the palace and was brought into Charles’s bedchamber by a secret door which, in its time, had doubtless fulfilled less noble purposes.56
Charles died well. He apologised to the crowd of assembled courtiers and functionaries for being such an unconscionably long time about it, begged the queen’s forgiveness, commended the Duchess of Portsmouth to James’s care and urged his listeners: ‘Let not poor Nelly starve.’ Early on the morning of 6 February he asked for his curtains to be drawn so that he might see one more dawn, and he died at noon. ‘He was ever kind to me,’ lamented John Evelyn, ‘and very gracious upon all occasions, and therefore I cannot, without ingratitude, but deplore his loss, which for many respects as well as duty I do with all my soul.’57
The Churchills stood high in the favour of the new king, James II. John was confirmed in his appointments and sent off to Paris, ostensibly to formally notify Louis XIV of the succession but actually to ask for money. In fact Paul Barillon, the French ambassador, had already presented James with 500,000 livres (perhaps £10 million), so John’s instructions were changed while he was on his way, and he was simply to thank Louis for this handsome gift. Gilbert Burnet maintains that while he was in France John Churchill met the Protestant soldier and diplomat Henri de Massue, marquis de Ruvigny, whom he already knew from Charles’s negotiations with the French in 1678, and warned him that ‘If the King was ever prevailed upon to alter our religion he would serve him no longer, but would withdraw from him.’58
We must be as cautious about Burnet’s assertions, made from the Whig standpoint, as we should be about Lord Ailesbury’s, imbued as they are with Jacobite sympathies. However, it is evident that religion was already an issue dividing the Cockpit circle from James’s court. Sarah maintains that James had tried to shift Anne from her firm Anglicanism ‘by putting into her hands some books and papers’, and in 1679 Dick Talbot, now her brother-in-law, ‘took pains with me, but without any effect, to persuade me to bring over the Princess to their Catholic purpose’.59 A secret French report of 1687 was to suggest that Anne was heavily influenced by Sarah, ‘whom she loves tenderly’, and this helped keep her away from court so that her father could not speak to her about religion.60
Even if there was palpable tension between court and Cockpit in early 1685, it did not prevent James from settling old debts. On 14 May that year John Churchill was created Baron Churchill of Sandridge in Hertfordshire, and so had a seat in the House of Lords, which was to meet later that month for the first time in the new reign. He also became a governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The first session of the new, staunchly Tory-Anglican English Parliament was overshadowed by rebellion, led in Scotland by the Earl of Argyll, who had lived in the Low Countries since his escape from Edinburgh Castle, and in England by the Duke of Monmouth, also in exile, but likely to have been allowed back home had Charles not died. Monmouth, born in Rotterdam in April 1649, was an experienced soldier, handsome and staunchly Protestant. He maintained that Charles had actually been married to his mother, Lucy Walter, but he had never been the Whigs’ candidate to supplant James at the time of the Exclusion Crisis: they preferred his niece Mary. Exiled following his involvement in the Rye House plot of 1683, Monmouth had been at the centre of a web of radical discontent in the Low Countries, and his invasion in 1685 was widely expected. Argyll and Monmouth might have had a better chance had they been able to coordinate their activities, but even so neither insurrection attracted the widespread popular support that might have posed a serious challenge to the government. Argyll may have assembled as many as 2,500 men, and Monmouth perhaps 7,000 at the peak of his success.
When we are considering John Churchill’s motivation in 1685 and 1688 it is important to recognise some simple truths. In 1685 James had not attracted the suspicion which dogged him by 1688. The army was loyal to its leaders, and they were loyal to James. Neither Argyll’s nor Monmouth’s expedition was a well-planned military invasion with reserves of arms to equip supporters, or serious external support. In 1685 neither invasion had a realistic prospect of success, and men like John Churchill, who lived their lives on the basis of rational calculation, would not support Monmouth or Argyll. Furthermore, Churchill had served under Monmouth, and this experience, far from increasing his regard for ‘the Protestant duke’, had demonstrated some of Monmouth’s frightening unsteadiness.
Monmouth arrived in Lyme Bay on 11 June, to be told that the Somerset militia were already in arms and the Duke of Albemarle (George Monck’s son), lord lieutenant of Devon, was calling out his militiamen. An attempt to fire a warning shot from the guns protecting Lyme Regis had failed ridiculously when it transpired that neither powder nor shot was available. Soon Monmouth himself landed on the beach that now bears his name, thanked God for his safe arrival, and ordered his banner – with the words Fear nothing but GOD on a background of Leveller green – to be unfurled. The town’s mayor set off for Honiton, whence he wrote to the king to say that he thought Monmouth was ashore with three hundred men, and went on to report to Albemarle. Two local royalists saw what had happened and rode hard for London, where they sought out their MP.
By a remarkable coincidence Sir Winston Churchill was Member for Lyme, and so it was that James was roused at four on the morning of 13 June by John Churchill, who, as a lord of the bedchamber, had ready access to the royal bedroom, accompanied by his father and the two loyalists. The latter were rewarded with £20 apiece, and even before he had taken any formal advice, James ordered Churchill to ride westwards with four troops of the Oxford Blues and four of his own regiment of dragoons. Percy Kirke, of Tangier fame, was to join him with five companies of the Queen Dowager’s Regiment of Foot as soon as he could.
Whatever his personal failings, Monmouth was a competent soldier. He realised that he needed to raise troops as quickly as he could, and spent the first few days issuing the weapons he had landed with and procuring more locally. There was a clash with some militia horse in Bridport, but the militia proved less aggressive than Monmouth had feared. This gave him the opportunity to form his infantry into five regiments, known (like the regiments of the London Trained Bands) as Red (the Duke of Monmouth’s own), White, Blue, Green and Yellow, with an independent company of Lyme men. The horse formed a single body under Lord Grey, who had been handicapped by having his second in command, Andrew Fletcher, arrested for murder after pistolling Monmouth’s treasurer, Thomas Dare, in a squabble over a requisitioned charger.
Although
